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Monthly Archives: November 2010

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I have got a little pile of finished knitted projects and I’m giving them all away.
It is such a joy to complete them and send them out into the world.

I think it’s OK to put some of them up here because the people I made them for never look at this blog, as far as I know…..

(There are six or seven more, all almost done, and if I show them it would spoil some surprises.)

First, above is the Modest Lace Shawl. I learned to knit with organized holes on this project, and I have to thank my wonderful neighbour Patricia, who taught me how. She learned from the pattern’s designer, and I am amazed at my good fortune in having such a patient good humoured instructor.
It’s called lace, and so I guess it is.
I used a Noro sock yarn, and I like the way the color changes and repeats itself.

I wish I had a photo of it before it was blocked. It looked like an ugly old rag, and I nearly threw it away. But once it was washed and stretched and straightened, I really liked it very much! And Helen is such beautiful model, she makes everything look good!

I aso completed a funky orange poncho, which was not based upon any pattern, but was a crazy creation born on a speed tour through Mary’s Yarns, where I got tons of discounted wool, and lots of good advice from Mary herself. Nobody would model it, as it was too large for my girls, and I would not be flattering to an orange poncho. So here it is, lounging in the kitchen:

And last night I (finally…) completed this red cashmere stole for my mother.

The pattern for this one is Cheryl Oberle’s Kimono Shawl pattern from her wonderful book of Folk Shawls. This is a great collection of patterns, there is something for everyone. And her instructions are clear and easy to follow, very thorough succinct.

I used Lana Grossa Pashmina for this one, and found it was so nice to work with. It’s so soft and elastic and warm. She recommends silk, and a lighter weight than worsted, for this shawl. But I wanted something warmer than silk because this one was made for warmth and not just beauty. I love it that you can fudge around with wool and change patterns and find that even when you go out on your own tangent, something nice can happen.
I have a bit of a hankering to make this one again……after a good prolonged break, and to make it in a DK weight cashmere and make it more like a large scarf.

Here is a picture of how it looked just when I finished knitting, and before I blocked it. I sort of miss the thickness that was lost when I stretched it out. But it does show off a little more with all those lacy holes opened up from the blocking. It’s nice both ways.

Happy Thanksgiving! We are not celebrating with a turkey dinner today, because we’re in a country which celebrates this holiday last month.
We missed it in October, because we were in still another country…..so we’re having our Thanksgiving Dinner on Saturday. Tonight….Spaghetti, probably another puritan favourite.
I was just about to write up a post here about how hard it is to find cranberries in Canada in November, when I remembered that I did that last year and it doesn’t sound thankful at all, so I’m not going to do it again. And anyhow, I DID find cranberries this year, and they are simmering away on the stove right now with sugar and orange marmalade, getting thicker and sweeter for Saturday evening.

For today, there is no turkey yet, just thankfulness. And thankfulness is just quiet contentment with what has been placed before us by the hand of God. Recognizing that where I am is where God has placed me, and that I can learn more here than I could if I were in the place I might have chosen. A. W. Pink said, in a sermon on contentment, that it is “the product of a heart resting in God”.

And Jeremiah Burroughs said “The great design God has in afflicting you is to break and humble your heart; and will you maintain a spirit quite opposite to the work of God? For you to murmur and be discontented is to resist the work of God. God is doing you good if you could see it and if He is pleased to sanctify your affliction to break that hard heart of yours and humble that proud spirit of yours, it would be the greatest mercy that you ever had in your life.” And I say, Amen!

Ten or twelve years ago, out in the desert of California, I was complaining to an older woman in our church there that I missed my family and was finding it hard to live so far from everything familiar to me, and that the rattlesnakes and poisonous spiders were getting me down.
And she told me that I’d have to stand up straight and act like a grown-up, get over my whining, do the best with what I had, because God had put me there in that spot so I could learn to trust Him better and quit looking to other people to meet my needs. She also said that I probably wouldn’t learn that lesson quite as well if I were in a comfortable landscape with higher humidity, more live vegetation and a great gathering of old friends around me, seeing as I had such a deep affection for those things.
So, I left her house feeling a little cranky and out of joint over her failure to empathize with me. And I have spent the years since coming to understand her wisdom more and more.

So, whatever desert you are in, and however much you wish it were another landscape entirely, and for whatever reason you think you are entitled to complain, I will just say “Don’t go there.”
There is something to learn where you are, and today’s opportunities are unique. So don’t waste them complaining. Be thankful and step out in obedience.

Wonderful David just handed me a home-made eggnog latte, which is the most delicious way to get into the holiday mood. With this in hand, I thought it might be a great opportunity to hunt through photos and put something Christmassy up on this blog, so as to better set the holiday tone.

But then I got stuck when I found this little item in among the photos from last Christmas. Here are two dear friends who loved one another in such a precious way. Neither of them will be with us this year (though I do get to see my mom in a couple of weeks for her birthday). Roscoe is gone, and I miss all his softness and warmth. But what a lovely thing it was to be his human, for a time.

Makes me want to get ready to love whoever might be around the table this Christmas, and make the most of our time together. We’re getting ourselves organized so it can be sweet and fun!

(here are those two old buddies way back in California, being young and silly……)

This post will not appear to be written by the same person who was in for those HAT posts below.
I’m multifaceted, and my husband would vouch for that, I believe.

I have to say that last week was heavy, and I think the heaviness crept up on me and perched atop my head like a vulture.
Understanding that nobody wants to hear about the colorful side of my family of origin, I’ll just say that I am thankful my husband took me away from it all.
But, last week, as someone in Appalachia, who I’ve known for nearly all my life, was finding it impossible to make wise choices, and at the same time I was reading just piles of high school biology (probably in an attempt to escape all the news coming in over the phone). I found that I was sort of going down for the third time in a sea of recessive alleles and monohybrid crosses. Then, I began to dream in Punnett squares and to drift away from conversations thinking of everything in terms of gametes and genotypes.
I made a sudden return to consciousness this morning when the kids knocked on my forehead saying “Mom, did you really just tell Daniel he could finish that whole pie?”

And having snapped out of it, I thought that I would drop in here with something a bit light that David read to me this afternoon. It’s from an old letter E.B. White wrote to his editor, J. G. Case after the publication of The Elements of Style:

Dear Jack:

The next grammar book I bring out, I want to tell how to end a sentence with five prepositions. A father of a little boy goes upstairs after supper to read to his son, but he brings the wrong book. The boy says “Why did you bring that book that I don’t want to be read to out of up for?”

And how are YOU?

Yrs,

Andy

I really love E.B. White. At some point in the late ’80s, I spent part of one spring or summer driving past his house in Maine trying to muster courage to go up to the door and say “Hi”, until I was told by my friend Scott (of home-made Christmas gift fame) that White had actually been dead since 1985. That news brought a dark down-swing of mood, I can tell you.

Now, E.B. White’s letters are my magic elixir for kids who can’t seen to get a rhythm going when writing a paper. If they are stuck or if they hand in a draft that sounds wooden or uneven, I ask them to sit down and read the letters or essays of E.B. White for as long as it takes to haul them out of the ditch they are in. And it always works like a charm.

I wonder if anybody knows of another fun, concise writer who would help get the youngsters on track…..

~~I would also like to say that I get such a tremendous charge out of seeing my sixteen year old son loving E.B. White’s essays as much as I did. I just Love It when he’s reading me little funny bits and I can hardly make out what he’s reading because he’s too tickled and can’t stop laughing.

Just a few more thoughts that grew out of the post about big hats, below.

It’s a fine thing to offend the unsaved with the gospel of Christ.
But, knowing that Christ loves this church that He bought with his blood…and that it is precious to Him, sometimes I feel fearful of saying what is on my heart to believers, as I don’t want to offend those who have slightly different understandings than I do. I understand that there are other ideas than mine, held by sincere believers who love Christ as I do.
Not one of us grasps the entirety of scripture perfectly, as far as I can tell. And sometimes it seems like too many people in the Reformed church think that in order to be really Reformed, we all have to act like Martin Luther on steroids. Reform is certainly needed in the church today, but it’s reform of our hearts first. And so, humility and caution are most appropriate…. before we begin hacking at one another.

Speaking about faith and then doctrinal belief on the internet, whether on Facebook or on a blog, brings more opportunity for mischief and misunderstanding than speaking face to face. I find that there are so many ways to hide the elements of my faith that might REALLY rub someone wrong, or to just blab out what I’m thinking without considering how it may cause harm. And I am not the only one struggling with this. Sometimes I read “Christian Blogs” and am amazed at the lack of love, at the arrogance and at the failure to remember that we are to correct one another in love.
And I believe that where Hebrews 12:13 says “Make level paths for your feet, so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed” speaks to our tendency to trip up the one we believe is in error, rather than gently help him along to a better understanding .
We are told not to be carried away by all kinds of strange teachings, and we are also told to keep on loving each other as brothers. (Hebrews 13)

So when I encounter people who claim Christ, but who hold to doctrines that I do not find in the Bible, or who teach one doctrine while practicing something different. Or who elevate one teaching above another,learning how to respond rightly requires prayer, and scripture and patience and a fair bit of disciplined silence. It is essential to know where my authority lies, and to be in the habit of obedience. And I must love them first. Whether I’m in the room with them, or reading their ideas on a screen.

It is really the lovely sandpaper of the Holy Spirit on my soul for me to bow to scripture and receive instruction on how to step forward. Because my own proud heart always wants to do the wrong thing.

So, first, I must examine myself. (2 Cor. 13) I must look at my own motivations. If I can say what’s on my mind with love, and if what I really am after is to help, not to criticize or to elevate myself. Then perhaps I can speak.

On Saturday, Jon and I were invited for lunch with friends Kevin and Litza in Toronto. As we arrived and were saying “hello” to Kevin in his driveway, a gentleman passed on the street with his wife and baby.
This man was a hasidic Jew, wearing a very large fur hat called a shtreimel. Here below is a photo of two man wearing shtreimel hats:

Now I ask you, is there anything you could put upon your head that would scream “Look at me!” any louder?

As this family passed by, Kevin commented something to the effect that he admires these men who are so bold to proclaim in no uncertain terms and to all the world, who they are and where their faith lies. (Isn’t it so wonderful when somebody can point out something beautiful that you had failed to notice?)

He said “You cannot look at a Christian and tell who he is. Well, except that some people have a fish on the back of their car.” His idea was that we should all be as bold to make ourselves known as really belonging to Christ as the Jewish people in his neighbourhood are bold to proclaim their own belief.
But we don’t have hats or T-shirts or hairstyles to identify us. We have to proclaim our faith in words first, and then by our behaviour.
We have to decide to make it known that our identity is in Christ. We need to be free and eager to to do what’s required to say “Look at Christ!”

But lots of time we are afraid of confrontation. Or we don’t feel confident of our ability to articulate our faith. It’s fear.
And actually, if we are speaking for Christ, if we are standing firmly in opposition to evil, we can be sure that we will meet opposition. But we must learn to meet it, to march toward it knowing that we are defending the only one worth defending.

Because I belong to the one who is truth, I can rest in Him. It’s His universe, so I can humbly and gently and with kindness step out in obedient faith, speech and action. Because I belong to the one who owns it all. I am not an uninvited guest, and I need never behave as if I were, by hiding the one to whom I belong.

Some time last year I said something (maybe on this blog, maybe on the old green one) about how our family has a wild ambition to hand make our Christmas gifts for each other in 2010.

This is inspired, as I am sure I mentioned before, by my old friends Scott and Kristine Gryder, who undertook with their entire huge and extended family to make all their gifts for each other last year. They made furniture, exterior light fixtures out of fallen trees, tie-dyed shirts, picnic tables, hand-sewn items, cookies, spiced tea mixes, faux legal documents which were framed….and which must have been really hilarious if the look on all photographed faces is accurate. The pictures I saw of that celebration were breathtakingly inspirational to me.

So, we have been working like little squirrels getting ready for winter around here. I am just itching to post photographs of the humble little offerings that are piling up in all my gifty hiding places. But it would spoil the surprise.

I have to say that this is the most fun I have ever had getting ready for Christmas. I’m getting my littler guys organized on some of their projects now, and we are having a crazy fun time gluing stuff to picture frames, and sometimes also to our hair and the legs of the piano.

This is great fun, and I am already planning how we can do it better next year. I wonder if anyone else has done something like this, and could share some good ideas for those family members who are less crafty or who are hard to find a gift for.

The photo above is of some of the raw materials for my gifts……..actually, the yarn is more lovely than what I made with it.

Almost all of my time is spent educating my six children, and up to now I have carefully avoided speaking about it on this blog.

There are many reasons why I have been silent on this topic. One reason is that I want to protect my kids’ privacy and my own. Our progress is fast in some places, and slow in others. I always have a nagging suspicion that every other home-educating mom out there is doing it faster, better, more beautifully and with better map over-lays and arts and crafts than I am. I mean, I have seen some of those other blogs out there…..families who spend all day long making topographical maps while the oldest daughter plays the harp in the background and then they all adjourn to enjoy fresh home-made bread lathered with butter from their own cow and honey from their own bees. Ha!

Well, we’re not doing any of that. But here is what we are doing, and I’m putting it up here to encourage the ladies out there who are sure that they are the only ones without the harps, bees and cows. You are really not alone! So, as baseline home-educators, here’s what we’re doing this week.

We use (and love) Tapestry of Grace for history, literature, and writing. I am a huge fan of this curricula. I cannot imagine what might ever cause me to switch to another. Tapestry is a four year program of study, geared for all levels of learning, from the earliest reader to a high-school senior. Following the classical model, Tapestry covers history, from creation to current history, chronologically over its four year cycle, repeating itself three times during a child’s twelve years in school. This program includes more activities and reading ideas, projects and discussion plans than anyone could use at once, it is just rich with options and great ideas.

Last year, we studied Year Two, which covers the Renaissance and Reformation through the explorers and early colonization of America. And this year, in a brazen move, we have skipped Year Three entirely, having given it such a thorough treatment four years ago that nobody wanted to do it again for a while (woops!). So, we’re doing modern history now with Tapestry Year Four, and really loving the early 20th century.

We had an extra bonus this year, which was that we got to go to England and Norway for three weeks in October. While we were there, we made a point of checking out as many WWI and WWII museums and exhibits as we could find. We did also slip out and visit Shakespeare’s Globe Theater and the Tower of London, a few castles and cathedrals and art galleries, but we learned more than we ever expected about WWII in England and about the causes of WWI and II which were so much about the drawing of artificial boundaries all over Europe.

Before we left for that trip, we spent four weeks doing an ultra-fast summary of all that took place from 1700 to 1880, just to give us a foundation for this years work……then we left town and forgot 90% of it. (When I fill out the summary sheets for the kids work this year, I’m going to say that they were “exposed to the history and literature of the 18th and 19th centuries.”)

This week, we have been looking at the sweeping changes in technology, industry and science around the time of the turn of the century. My kids are reading about Teddy Roosevelt, Taft’s progressivism, the Wright brothers, Henry Ford, Sigmund Freud, Albert Einstein, Amy Carmichael, The Panama Canal, the scramble for Africa, the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, the Triple Alliance and the Triple Entente, and the authorization of an income tax with the Sixteenth Amendment.

The world was busy and booming, and in Europe and North America, everyone was full of hope and optimism. They had no idea what was ahead in this century of great and terrible wars.

I love learning all of this history again, some of it for the first time. It is an incredible gift to be able to talk about this with my kids, and to learn with them how all of these events and ideas and advances interacted with one another to set the stage for the events to come.

In a conversation today about air transportation, the invention of the automobile and the development of the assembly line, I was amazed to hear one of my kids say that the enormously high numbers of WWI casualties are in part attributable to these three advances in technology….because more and better methods of transportation, mechanization and production allowed for greater numbers of troops to be moved to places where more efficient weapons would be used upon them. Amazing, we take pride in our achievements, only to see them bring on our downfall.

Haile Gebrselassie of Ethiopia had a knee problem and had to drop out of the New York City Marathon today….This photo was most certainly taken on a happier day.

“at 1 hour 19 minutes 40 seconds of theNew York City Marathon on Sunday, as the men’s lead pack descended the Queensboro Bridge near the Mile 16 marker, Gebrselassie grimaced, slowed and drifted to his right, finally stopping as the leaders ran on.”

I understand that, because he received a $400,000 appearance fee, some are giving him a bit of an insensitive eye-roll. But he has all my sympathies. I know how mortifying it is to drop out, having done so myself at nearly the same mile marker a year ago.
And I know that a chubby housewife has virtually nothing in common with an Ethiopian racing phenomenon. Still, it was a sad day for this skinny ultra-fast miracle on two feet.
Dropping out is just sad, no matter who you are.

I really love writing here, the same way I love sleeping late and walking alone in the woods. But it’s hard to find the time.

I wonder how many people have a whole pile of things they love to do, which are kept on the shelf where they gather dust, because more important things and people have to come first.

Two years ago, I started writing a blog in a moment of desperation. My mother had been visiting us for a month, and her needs were fairly time consuming. And they were important, and it was a privilege to be able to serve her. But with those responsibilities on top of the regular needs of the seven people I live with and love, I began to feel like I was drowning. I knew that we would all do better if I could find a way to lift my sights a little, something to breath some cool oxygen into our lives so that I could move through each day in a less wooden way.

Skipping a few steps then, the blog and the challenge of 100 books and a marathon in a year all fell into my lap in one crazy weekend. And, having taken on a blog, I had to NAME the blog.
So, that weekend, Audrey and I were in the car on the way to Garden Basket for groceries, with the windows down and the music up high, thinking about the enormous potential for me to neglect my family as I buried myself in books and marathon training.

We laughed loudly at the great humor of naming the blog “Get Your Own Lunch, I’m Reading”……picturing me hunched over a book in the living room with hungry children whimpering at me for a sandwich as I snarled back at them to feed themselves.

I did not in fact ever tell any of my kids to make their own meal so that I could pursue my hobbies. But I did find that as long as I was serving my family well, the books and the running could never take the front seat position necessary for me to succeed. And that’s OK. It was a good year anyway and I learned so much. And it did breathe some cool oxygen into our lives.

I am giving the blog a face-lift, and thinking of how to make it more my own, and less of a strange and awkward project which doesn’t fit into our lives. So that I can just write here about what’s interesting to us. Because , it turns out that that is really enough.

But , since one of the many many things I have learned from my little bump-up with blogging is that it’s really beautiful to serve where I am supposed to be serving rather than to show off where I should NOT……maybe it’s time for a new name.

I asked Jon what he thought would be a good name, and he said “You could name it Fred.”
Then he looked at me over his bifocals with that “Doctor face” of his, and said “You know, ‘fred’ means ‘peace’ in Norwegian.”
So maybe I will have a blog named “Fred”………